Haymitch's Depression
by IceAger
Summary: Haymicth had a family once. He had a girl once. He had hope once. Then things changed for the worse. The Hunger Games came. He survived. Then the Capitol came. [Oneshot of Haymitch's life. Reviews very appreciated!]


Haymitch wasn't always a sad, lonely alcoholic. He used to be happy and wild. Cheeky and lovable.

Haymitch had a family once...

He remembers every Monday morning he'd shake his little brother awake. Tell him to get up or they'd be late for school. They'd eat a breakfast of stale bread or maybe a selection of apples from the old tree in their garden. His mother would kiss Haymitch on the cheek and tell him to be a good boy before he'd rub it away and then walk down the seam, his little brother's hand clasped tightly in his own.

Every Monday evening Haymitch would drop his brother at home before running off to try and scrape up some dinner for the family. The hob would always be his first stop. He'd hang around the stalls, rescuing any leftovers almost threw away by the peace keepers. When he had found a reasonable amount of food, he'd go through the bins of the merchant shops. A good lot could be found from there once he scraped away the rotten mush created by old fruit.

Tuesday morning was the same.

And Wednesday.

And Thursday.

Friday was different. He couldn't go through the bins behind the merchant shops because they'd have been emptied when he was at school.

Saturday was Haymitch's favorite day. He could do whatever he wanted because his Mother would trade some apples and other bits of common fruit at the hob for a better dinner. His brother would go along with his mother and play with some of the stall owner's children. That left Haymitch's plans for Saturdays empty. He'd go meet up with his friends. Get in trouble. Have a few laughs. Play a few dares. Pretty much the same thing for Sunday happened. He even met up with her.

Haymitch had a girl once...

They'd hang around the hob. Stroll along the Seam. Have their moments. They'd stare into each other's eyes, him into her green ones and her into his grey ones. They'd talk for hours on end, never growing bored of each other. They become closer and closer each day. He loved everything about her. Her gentle smile, her dark hair that bordered her beautiful face. The sparkle in her eyes when she laughed. Everything was perfect in a way which it wasn't. But that didn't bother him at all.

Then Haymitch started to get older.

Slowly, things changed. For one thing, Haymitch had to give up one his daily routines for the reapings that occurred each year. It was only then he started watching the Hunger Games. He learned the truth about the capitol quickly. He understood why there was peacekeepers. Why there was so many rules. He started paying more attention in school to figure out everything he could without asking questions. Everything came together.

Then he was reaped.

It was the worst time he could have been reaped. His family needed him more than ever with the apple tree dying and the peacekeepers stopping him from taking their leftovers. They were starving. He was starving. And that made him determined. Determined to win.

So he did.

Everything was fine for a while. Plenty of food. Plenty of luxuries. He had more time to spend with his family and with his friends. Everything was peachy. Except it wasn't. The memories never left him. Nor the nightmares. He couldn't ever escape what had happened. He outsmarted the capitol and for that he was to be punished.

They came on his birthday.

Everyone was gathered together laughing and dancing. No one heard the hovercraft. And no one saw it till it was too late. Haymitch understood immediately. He pushed his family into the basement and told them to keep quiet and not leave till he got back. He ran from the house, stopping dead in the Seam. Peacekeepers were heading towards a house. He knew who's house it was.

He was there in a flash. Guarding her. Protecting her. But they pushed him aside. Shot her down right in front of him. Her blood stained his hands as he cried, rocking her lifeless body back and forth. He cried her name out over and over.

Then he remembered his family.

He hated to leave her body to rot but he had to. He couldn't let his family end up like her. But when he got there it was too late. The peacekeepers marched right out past him with blinking an eye. Then he knew it was too late. In the basement, two bodied laid in a large pool of blood. By the look of it, his mother had tried shielding his brother but it made no difference. They were dead. Everyone he loved was dead.

Inside, he was dead.

So he turned to alcohol. First it was only when he couldn't bare to face the world. Then it became a regular thing. He lost track of how many times he woke up screaming, broke out into random sobs or thought he could hear their voices calling for him. He failed them all.

And for that, he hated the Hunger Games. The Capitol. Everyone.

Because it was their fault. Their fault they were dead. Yes, he blamed himself but he always had a special kind of hate for the monsters that made him leave for the Hunger Games. Maybe, he often thought, if he died then they'd all be alive.

Maybe he would have had more of a future.

He would have had family.

He talked with her about the future often. How they would have a large family filled with laughter. They agreed that they would wait. Wait until the Capitol faced justice. Then they could be together with their family and there would be no risks of their children being snatched away. He was foolish enough to believe it would all happen.

The Capitol even destroyed his dreams. They took away everything he had. _Everything._ And when he heard people talking of hope, he wanted to scream in their faces and tell them there was no hope. No chances of a better future.

So Haymitch had nothing in the end.

Or he thought that.

His whole life was bleak, watching everyone die through his drunken state. Then something changed.

Hope.

He finally found some after so many years of depression.

When Katniss Everdeen stepped up on stage to protect her sister, as he would had to his brother given the chance, he sensed it. Hope.

Maybe, just maybe, this year would be different, he told himself. And it was.


End file.
